Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

Philosophy post! Prepare for pretentiousness, big words, and most importantly, bullshit! I’m only kidding of course. Yesterday’s play, The Pitmen Painters raised some important questions about personal identity. In fact, the entire first act was dedicated to that theme. The miners are faced with an important challenge to their working class identities. When the wealthy heiress Helen Sutherland offers Oliver Kilbourne a weekly stipend for painting, he declines after much deliberation, hollering on about how a miner absolutely cannot be an artist. He is a pitman through and through and that will never change. His identity does not extend any further than his career.

Oliver is a perfect example of Jean-Paul Sartre’s concept of mauvaise foi, translated as bad faith. Sartre realized that humans tend to define themselves as per a list of finite list of descriptors, such as profession, sexual orientation, actions committed in the past, etc. His most famous example is the infamous waiter. This particular waiter wakes up every morning and thinks about waiting tables. He goes to work and is in his element, focusing primarily on his job and considering everything else to be either peripheral or in some way related to working in a restaurant. He is more waiter than human. Sartre considers such a person to be lying to himself, because human identity absolutely cannot be isolated into one overarching trait.

Oliver is in bad faith, at least throughout act one. There really isn’t much more to his shallow existence beyond his job as a pitman. He considers Helen to be part of “Them,” the upper class of Britain who might as well belong to a different nation. The two classes are worlds apart. Oliver and crew can’t even fathom pursuing a career in something as lofty as painting, a profession stereotypically associated with those who actually have time to paint, namely the upper class.

I apologize, but some technical jargon is necessary at this juncture. A key concept in existentialism is undefined nature of humanity. There are two important ideas to be understood here: facticity and transcendence. Facticity is past actions or social roles, or what most people attempt to use as fodder for definition. If I killed a man last week, the murder is part of my facticity. Transcendence is what a person is yet to become, an infinitely open space to be filled with future facticity. Sartre famously writes in the god-awfully long Being and Nothingness, “I am what I am not and I am not what I am.” Read that one a few times. To be what one is not is not as contradictory as it seems. The nothingness represents the freedom all people possess to make choices and live dignified lives. Do not become too deeply ingrained in your past; it does not define you.

The Ashington Group initially disagree with everything Sartre said. A pitman you’re born a pitman you’ll die, and you’ll never be anything more. As the men become more and more well known in the art world, they insist on remaining “non-professional” artists and keep their dismal jobs down in the mines. I believe that the group, especially Oliver, conquer their bad faith. They finally realize the crucial balance of facticity and transcendence. Their art remains based on working-class life and pitman culture, but they learn to embrace the future instead of gluing themselves to their past.

So it seemed like everyone was enthralled by the play, The Pitman Painters, last night. It was amazing, simply put.  However, as I have already mulled to a few of my classmates, I am uncertain of its socialist/communist tendencies. I felt more like it was a critique of socialism (which I realize is not the historical case). It ended up just feeling very nihilistic to me, rather than inspirational. Maybe nihilism isn’t the best word but if nothing else the play was laced was dramatic irony. I look at the play, and I think of all the dreams, passion, and attempts to stand up on one’s own feet, and all I see is failure. Small details like the unemployed guy (dies when he enlists) or Oliver (stays a pitman; I’ll talk more on this as it is arguable he succeeded), or even their teacher (who gets the great position yet will soon be forgot and left to obscurity) are quite noticeable; however, it is the grander theme of a system or dream letting us down is what leads me to feel this falls into the realm of nihilism rather than a socialist commentary. The last scene in particular shows this I think. Oliver has turned away from the bourgeois’ attempt to enslave him with money (hurray for the working class!), and he paints a banner for the socialist movement. Everyone is having a beer and cheering, saying “surely they’ll have to listen to us now.” But we as viewers know this not to be true. And then, when you think it is only a subtle joke between you and the playwright, the projector lights up explaining to us that there was never and academy at Ashington and the group broke up soon after the play took place. We further understand that the socialist movement in Britain did not succeed; they probably all died poor miners. In all likelihood (as Paul pointed out) Margaret Thatcher personally beat up each of the Pitman Painters.

The only thing I could think of as a positive explanation was this: the play was supposed to represent a moment, a snapshot, of human existance where people got it right. Just like in a painting, for one second the world is still and clear. We have no idea what Mona Lisa did right after her portrait was taken; she could have been attacked by wild dogs. However, in that one moment truth was found. And then the moment passes, we become disillusioned, our skills fail us, or our dreams betray us.

But onto happier things: I loved the accents, not just because linguistic anthropology has always given me goosebumps but also because I thought it is an interesting device to show class struggle and friction; it is something we rarely get to play with in the United States (other than your usual southern jokes). What I liked best was how we as the audience were able to understand the pitman more clearly as the play went on, as if we were becoming part of their group, integrating as the art instructor did. This might have been done on purpose, or their might not have been any change at all to the dialogue and I was simply able to understand more easily. Either way, it was a neat technique.

Anyway, cheers

I had a huge problem with the Victoria and Albert Museum. Maybe that’s not the most gracious of ways to begin a post but it’s the only way that seems fitting. I was really excited to go to the museum. Not only had I heard only rave reviews from my classmates but I had also been introduced to just a taste of all the many ways that Victoria and Albert aided the arts and science communities on our very first day here on our tube stop adventure. I was expecting a museum that displayed some of the finest collections of art-sy and science-sy things shown off in an almost magical way. What did the museum show me though? Wedding dresses. The only thing I remember from all of the exhibitions is the fashion room. Maybe that wasn’t the best room for a person like me to go into (I’m not the best at coordinating colors and prints but, in my defense, I at least know that plaid and stripes don’t go together). Still, I think that a person without the least bit of fashion sense should be able to go into an exhibit in this type of museum and not come out with a feeling of outrage. Now, I have been researching feminist literary figures  in the Bloomsbury area for the past week so maybe I’m a bit more sensitive to gender issues than I might normally be. That being said, the fashion room was laid out in a way that seemed to make the statement that the epitome of female dress could be found in a wedding dress. I don’t know if I’m alone in this sentiment but that statement couldn’t be more belittling or insulting. In my mind, glorifying a wedding dress in this way fits into the mindset that women are to only aspire to be a wife. I have nothing against marriage and think that being a stay-at-home-mom is quite a respectable position in life. But to be limited to such a role is wrong and it is exactly that limitation that I feel the fashion room in this museum was advertising.

Women have for years been actively pursuing equal opportunities in the workplace and home alike. Many women from the London area made great strides in assuring these opportunities came about. In the literary world, Virginia Woolf, George Eliot, Vera Brittain, Jane Austen– these are just a few of the women who pushed their way to the forefront of the literary world and showed that women had as much talent as men and should be given the opportunity to showcase that talent. Other influential women such as Millicent Garrett Fawcett, Sylvia Pankhurst, and Nancy Astor also have an important influence in the city. Let’s not forget that some of the most memorable sovereigns of the nation were women. Queen Elizabeth I, Queen Elizabeth II, and even Queen Victoria herself made contributions to the well being of the nation that cannot be overlooked. Though incredibly diverse in their many accomplishments, all of these women have one thing in common: their lives amounted to more than a wedding dress.

The Victoria and Albert Museum seems to ignore the rich history of powerful females in London though and, instead, caters to the idea that the aspiration of women is to look good on their wedding day. I think this is most clearly demonstrated in the wedding dress by Neymar that was worn by Angela Stamp on their wedding day in 1976. It was designed to resemble something Anne Boleyn would have worn.

Angela Stam's Neymar wedding dress

Anne Boleyn used marriage as a social stepladder more than possibly any other woman in history in my opinion. Taking any connection to the dress’s primary influence away though, the dress itself showcases exactly what the feminist movement was rebelling against in the 1970s. It is embroidered with beads and flowers and covered in frills and folds is such a way that it emphasizes the dress not the woman. In fact, the mannequin on display has absolutely no facial attributes at all. The woman is literally unnecessary. To me this implies that any woman can be placed into this dress, it wouldn’t matter at all who is in it. The dress is going to serve its purpose. The dress is going to find the desired husband (the husband who wants his wife in such a dress and will pay to make sure she looks like this to her public). Yes, it is crafted beautifully and is truly a sight to see. Other dresses were just as beautiful though, but it was this dress along with two other wedding dresses that were on display in single cases. It was this dress along with two other wedding dresses that attracted everyone’s attention. The museum is compiling a collection of wedding dresses for their wedding dress exhibit in 2013. It’s currently 2009. These wedding dresses aren’t a part of that exhibit. These wedding dresses are a part of the everyday collection and as such send the message (at least to me) that these are important enough to be set aside from all the other dresses because they are the most important clothes that women can ever put on. I would argue that’s just simply not the case.

I’m not even going to get started on the significant lack of male clothes present in the exhibit. There was a case of suits in the entire room. That was it. I recognize that that inequality is also a problem but the message of limitation through the wedding dresses was what struck me most in the room. Again, I was excited about seeing the museum. Victoria and Albert made incredible contributions to the art and science communities that shouldn’t be ignored. Unfortunately, the way in which the wedding dresses were displayed made all of their accomplishments completely invisible to me. All I could see was lace and embroidery.

I have no idea what I’m talking about when it comes to classical music, nor do I have a musically creative bone in my body. I can pick out the right-hand parts to a few Beatles and Coldplay tunes on the piano and I can play a pretty mean kazoo, but my incompetence with the finer, mechanical parts of music has never kept me from deeply appreciating it. I’ll actually make sacrifices and bad life-choices I usually wouldn’t make to go see a live show, and I was very much looking forward to seeing Prom 70 at the Royal Albert Hall despite my almost complete ignorance of classical music.

I’ll admit that I was more excited to see anything in the Royal Albert Hall itself than I was about the actual program: so many greats have played on that stage, it’s an amazingly beautiful and historic venue, and I own a few concerts on DVD that take place in that very hall.

I’m not sure I even have the vocabulary to describe the concert we saw, so I’m not sure why I’m blogging about it if I can’t write about it, but I want to enthuse about how much I enjoyed the night’s performance (as well as the venue it was in). Besides purely enjoying the music and wishing the performance had been longer, I found myself wondering about the musicians, about their lives and motives, and what would possess a person to be so passionate about one random instrument that they would pursue it to the highest level of achievement and proficiency. I lack the dedication, talent, and all around aspiration to do anything like that, so I’ve always been attracted to people who know where they’re going and how they want to get there.

Additionally, I also found myself wondering about the whole “BBC Proms” program itself: the fact that the BBC can sponsor, fill, and finance nine weeks of almost continual classical music concerts for 115 years, as well as broadcast them nightly on television and radio, says a lot about the importance of the fine arts to London and Britain as a whole. The Proms program doesn’t strike me as one that would exist or even be attended by nearly as many people in New York, for example, which I now realize is a terrible shame, since it prohibits people previously ignorant of classical music, like me, to enjoy a night of the most talented musicians around for a good price in a historic venue and perhaps develop and interest in the finer arts.

So I am quite sure I was not the only one that was moved by The Pitmen Painters tonight. I must admit, this was the performance I was least looking forward to, and it was the one I enjoyed and was touched by the most. I guess it was because, first of all, it struck close to home. My great grandfathers on my father’s side of the family both were coal miners and it just gave me so much pride in my family. My father was the first person on his side of the family to attend college, my sister and I being the next, so I have a strong appreciation and respect for those who earn their living by hand.  I also appreciated this play because it featured the working class.

I am a social historian at heart, so to watch this play was truly a treat and a learning experience. The scene that stuck out to me the most was when Oliver was talking with Miss Sutherland about his refusal to her offer. It reminded me a bit of Great Expectations and Joe. I thought of the conversation Pip and Joe had where Joe, even though he has the capacity to perhaps achieve greater things, decides he is satisfied with his honest way of living and would not change it. Pip of course did not understand why one would want to do that, just like Miss Sutherland had the same sort of reaction. In the play, Oliver says something that miners and painters just don’t mix. They are from two different worlds and they both speak two different languages, he would never be able to fit in. At first, I remember thinking, I really hope he takes this offer because he was an incredible artist. Then, when I saw the opening of the scene and he sat there waiting to tell her the answer, I just thought in my mind, don’t say yes. I don’t really know why I thought that, but I guess I knew too, like he did, that sometimes two different social scenes just cannot mix. In the end though, he was still proud of the work he did and who he was, and that was what was important.

I thought this was an excellent final play to end our time in London because it kind of brought together all of the central themes we had been discussing. From the ever popular juxtapositioning to class structure to identity. The moral of the story is to just be proud of where you come from, like we had learned with Dickens and other authors, and tonight I was definitely proud of my heritage.

It occurred to me last night that I have a major lack of research done for my paper. I know that I’m not the only one. As far as I know, only a handful of people have actually paid a visit to the library and gotten their reader card. In case you are one of those folks who haven’t yet gone, this post is directed to you. Military time is used for added European flavor. Read it and know what not to do at the British library.

0900: Leave bright and early with high hopes for a prestigious library.

0902: Return to the Arran House to retrieve my forgotten passport.

0917: Finally arrive at my destination. Almost get hit by a bus crossing the street.

0919: Ask the receptionist where the heck I need to go in the behemoth of a building to get a library card. He responds, simply, “Go upstairs.”

0929: After ten minutes of confused wandering, return back to receptionist for a slightly more specific destination. Feel really stupid after he points to the big sign saying “READER CARD REGISTRATION.”

0931: Proceed to registration area. Sloppily hand receptionist the gazillion documents and forms of identification that I was told to bring. Before I even say a word he asks if I’m American. Typical.

0932: Fill out electronic application. Didn’t run into any problems, for once. Hooray.

0950: Finally called up to complete application process. Clerk is morbidly obese, and flirty.

0951: Turns out all I needed was a passport, a driver’s license, and my Dickinson ID. Feel embarrassed again for bringing so much stuff.

0953: Get picture taken for library card. Clerk compliments me on the picture. I think she was just being nice.

0954: Run into Audrey. Go America.

1000: Sit down at a computer that is clearly not working. Young lady next to me asks if I’m American. Move to another desk on the opposite side of the room.

1015: Successfully locate and compile six or so books that seem pertinent to my topic. Go to enquiries counter to pick up books. Am told to wait 70 minutes for processing. Why 70? Why not 60, or 71 for that matter? Only God knows.

1130: After a delicious visit to Pret a Manger, return to library with revitalized high hopes.

1133: Turns out I didn’t actually request anything and that the last hour was a complete waste of time. Clerk chastises me for not asking for help. Yeah, well, he’s old and has bad teeth. So there.

1145: Receive help from a younger librarian who is familiar with the orthodontist’s office. Am told to wait another 70 minutes.

1330: After getting lost in The Guardian and totally losing track of time, sprint back to library. What if 70 minutes is exceeded? I bet they make you wait 70 more minutes as a penalty.

1333: No penalty for tardiness! Unfortunately, only one book out of six are available. Silently curse the British library system.

1420: Fortunately, the one book is informative. Proceed to copy machine room for much green button pressing pleasure.

1421: 20 pence per page?! That’s highway robbery! Makes me miss Dickinson for its free printing services. Oh, wait…

1430: Ingenious idea for new search terms! Find a book in database called Swingtime in Tottenham. Perfect for a paper on the London Jazz scene! Much rejoicing, followed by grumbling due to yet another 70 minute wait.

1520: After another visit to Pret and a thorough reading of Wired, proceed back to library feeling giddy.

1524: Swingtime in Tottenham is a children’s book. With pictures.

1525-1533: Seethe with anger.

1534: Leave library. See Andrew Ford from the science program across the room on the way out. Go America.

1550: Return to Arran House, thoroughly unfulfilled and sore.

The Moral of the story: For the love of God, no matter how unfriendly or scary the librarians might seem, ASK FOR DIRECTIONS!

I already addressed the differences in national appreciation of art between the UK and US in my post last week about the theatre, but recently I’ve been thinking about it again. Although I didn’t get to catch all of what Sir Peter Maxwell Davies said in his preconcert interview Tuesday, I was struck by a topic he and the interviewer both seemed anxious to discuss: music education. More specifically, that it is not requisite and rather is sometimes absent from the UK curriculum. For those of you who didn’t go to the talk, Sir Peter holds the title of Master of the Queen’s Music, conducted the first two pieces last night, and was the composer of the violin concerto which had its premiere last night. He made the important point that British schools do a disservice to the youth of the country when they underestimate their ability to be intellectually challenged, particularly by the seemingly more abstract fields of art and music. He said that youth want to be challenged and, cynical though I am about a lot, I absolutely agree. I feel, as I imagine Davies would, that there needs to be some mechanism (through schooling or some other way) for forcing (for lack of a better word) art, music, science and discussion and debate of relevant issues on the public. This kind of thing may be scarce in Britain, but it seems absolutely extinct in America.

After all, on Tuesday night we saw a great Proms concert that (if it wasn’t live last night) will be rebroadcast on one of the lower number BBC Channels in the next few days. That would be like me going to a challenging but enjoyable Baltimore Symphony Orchestra concert and it being broadcast for the entire country on NBC the next night. I wouldn’t expect every Brit flipping through the channels to stop and be transfixed by contemporary classical music, but at least a conscious effort is being made to offer quality programming and I’m sure that has some effect (look at the crowd a Tuesday night concert with mostly unfamiliar pieces drew). I’m sure there’s much worse programming that would have appealed to a much greater audience that the BBC can show rather than the Proms, but the BBC is lucky enough to not be funded by advertisers and so it doesn’t have to cater to the lowest common denominator the way networks in the US often have to. Davies may be right that the British public in general and youth in particular are not being challenged, but at least the Proms broadcast is a small sign that those with the power to control programming in Britain have some inclination towards placing art and music front and centre.

My father told me that when he was in elementary school, once in a while everyone would be shepherded down to the auditorium to watch film of Leonard Bernstein’s Young People’s Concerts together. I imagine there were people in his class that had no interest in classical music then or today, but I imagine the films struck an interest in music in at least a few. If there were efforts to expose me to art and music when I was young it was always cursory (more cursory even than watching film of full concerts), underfunded or both. I support Sir Peter’s cause of really making an effort to expose kids to a wider range of great art and music at a young age, and think that the Proms is a good example of how an effort on an even larger scale can really pay off.

I briefly wanted to mention that I really enjoyed Tuesday night’s concert. I thought it was actually the perfect program for us in that it included a fine romantic overture, a challenging piece of contemporary British music (in its UK premiere) and an also interesting Sibelius symphony, with a finale that’s hard not to love (and which, strangely enough, was mentioned in one of the London poems we all read). While I’m still not sure I understand everything about the structure of the Proms, it does seem like a very unusual and impressive event, and I’m glad to say I had the chance to go. I’m starting to conclude that for all the amazing opportunities we’ve had in London, down the road I’ll most appreciate the chance to see so many great performances (both theatrical and musical) for free (well, free for me, anyway).

Once again, I will attempt to describe my direct encounters with British culture in order to better understand this city we’ve called home for the past several weeks.

“What kind of music do you listen to?”

It’s the question everyone asks me, and it’s among one of the questions I enjoy answering the least. I don’t have a favorite band, hold a subscription to Rolling Stone magazine, or know the title/artist/lyrics/history of any song on demand. I have learned that without this information, your answer to this question quickly turns into a rambling exploration of your taste in music, ultimately ending in “…Well, I guess I kind of like everything.”

Do not misunderstand me – I enjoy music. I love music. I listen to a broad list of genres, have my own taste in music, enjoy certain bands, and could not imagine not having my iPod with me whenever I wanted it. When I came over to Britain, I looked forward to opening my ears to new sounds and listening for the definition of quintessential “British music”. Maybe – just maybe – I could finally find a band in Britain I could use as my answer to the above question.

London did not immediately provide the new sound I was expecting. I often feel as though I have not left the music world of the USA. I walk into a restaurant, and “Snow ((Hey Oh))” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers is piped in through the speakers. I wander through Boot’s to pick up some toiletries, and I suddenly find myself humming along to Billy Joel’s “Only the Good Die Young.” The Tube walls are lined with adverts for Illinois-based Wilco and their upcoming album. What does this lasting presence of American music in London mean?

     _________________

I did some research into the subject, and my search showed that I am not the only one to write on this subject (Though while I write a small post, they write 400-pg books on the ebb and flow of American and British culture.). The music in the US during the twentieth-century has always been played to some extent in Britain. This influx of American music was so influential that in 1935 the BBC went so far as to ban people from using the word “hot” as a descriptor for popular American jazz music. American musicians needed special authorization in order to play at any venue in Britain (Part of this was due to the era’s inherent racism and prejudice toward many black jazz musicians.) These measures were probably meant, in large part, to bolster the native music population, rid the public from the potential destructive elements of the new American music, and curb a continued domination of American music in the British market.

One can easily pose the question asking why the protectionism of the early twentieth century has not continued to this day. Personally, I point to the truly ‘British’ musicians that have swept up a frenzied fanbase in Britain, Europe, and, most importantly, the US. Anyone ever hear of Elton John? How about the Rolling Stones? Queen? These bands and many, many others have moved Britain to the forefront of the music industry and, in turn, posed a challenge to the flood of American music from across the pond. Accordingly, Britain can rest easy knowing it has held its own in the vast music market.

     _________________ 

Back to the initial point of this post – music in Britain and why it’s so…familiar. I have come to the conclusion that music, while inherently localized to some initial extent, will eventually cross borders. If Billy Joel can play to sold-out concerts in Tokyo, he can be popular among the staff in the local Boot’s. If people in Liverpool can be so uncontrollably excited to get their hands on The Beatles: Rockband – a new game allowing people to sing as their favorite member of the Fab Four – you can only imagine how packed the lines will be outside the GameStop in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania.

I am still trying to listen for a sense of modern British music, for I have only encountered it by chance. Occassionally,I have the happy fortune of sitting next to someone who just happens to be blasting what sounds like a non-American pop song on their iPod.

At the BBC PROMS concert, I found the British works to be extraordinary. This ties back to the sense of music as truly universal. At one point during Sir Peter Maxwell Davies’ pre-concert talk, he mentioned his appreciation and eventual love of Aboriginal music, which he in turn used as an inspiration for some of his pieces. This is just one example of the capability of music to blend, to some extent, many local, national, and international boundaries. [I hope this does not come off as a way to skirt the issue by saying “Oh, well, I do not know too much about British music, but look at how wonderful ALL music can be!” This is one of my goals for the next few months, and one I will probably have a better chance of fulfilling once we settle in Norwich.]

For the recording of Tuesday night’s pieces, I encourage you to take a listen here (you’ll find the recording at the bottom of the page, but I am not sure for how much longer).

Feel free to comment, offer some better understanding of British music, or simply type out a list of songs I should be listening to more often. Many people have defined music in different ways, but I think I have yet to create/find my definition. I do not know when I will be happy with my definition of music (or my iTunes library), but I am more than happy to take steps in some general direction.

Sources: 

Kaufman, Will and Heidi Slettedahl Macpherson. Britain and the Americas: culture, politics, and history. Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, Inc., 2005. 623-26.

Parsonage, Catherine. The Evolution of Jazz in Britain, 1880-1935. Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2005. 180-81.

I am a huge fan of classical music, so when I heard that we would have the opportunity to go to hear Sir Peter Maxwell Davies speak and attend the Proms, I was delighted!  Sir Peter is one of the most prominent British composers alive.  He has written hundreds of pieces and holds the title of Master of the Queen’s Music.  (A purely ceremonial role that allows him to write music that requires a very large number of people to perform.  After all, if the piece is being premiered before the Queen, who wouldn’t want to participate?)  Despite all of Sir Peter’s many accomplishments, the thing that struck me most about his talk is how much he truly loves and appreciates music.  He said in the discussion that “the future holds as much music as I can cram into it!”

A piece of music should be a journey that tells as simple or complex a story as the composer wishes.  Although Sir Peter’s Violin Concerto No. 2 ‘Fiddler on the Shore’ was not my favorite piece of the evening, I greatly enjoyed the story of the piece.  (Now, bare with me as this may read as a little bit far-fetched and listening slightly too much into the music.)  I heard the soloist as being one person who was trying to find his path and was confused among the peaceful, smooth, soothing noises of the sea (orchestra).  Throughout the piece, the soloist becomes much more certain of his path in life, and thus the playing of the violin by the soloist became much smoother, mimicking the “sea” orchestra of earlier.  However, when this happens, the orchestra’s playing became much more violent and choppy, which caused the soloist to dive back into the confusion he experienced at the beginning of the piece.  In the end, the soloist and the sea come together in peace.  To me, the piece was a depiction of the soloist searching for clarity in the world.

Last night I went to hear the conductor, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, speak on his life as a composer, conductor, and teacher. I really enjoyed what I heard of his speech, he was a very passionate and witty man, however as an education minor I greatly disagreed with some of what he said. When he got to talking about education he said that educators should not underestimate students and that “people like to be challenged” and that students should not be talked down to because “they are not stupid”. This I agree with students deserve to be challenged because if a teacher set the bar high then they will learn more than if you expect little of them. However, he then goes on to say that he believes that government officials make decisions regarding education so student “remain ignorant in a state of mind where they cannot criticize the government, where they have not got any qualifications”. I feel that at least in America things are FAR more complex than this. There are so many more factors in the quality of education in public schools (Note: I am using public school in the American way). The reason public schools, especially urban public schools, do not do as well as suburban and private schools is because the high quality teachers want to go where they will get paid the most and have the fewest problems. Urban public schools do not pay as much as private schools and often have more disciplinary problems. This and White Flight combine to drag down the public school systems in both the United States and England, it is not simply the government holding down the proletariat.

He later says that he does not understand why schools have stopped teaching Latin and Shakespeare, because he feels that students are fully capable of learning them (however I cannot find the direct quotation in the link). I do not believe that Latin is being taken off school curriculum is because they don’t feel that students are able to learn it, but rather because it has become obsolete. One of the readings that I had in my Kaleidoscope education book (I really wish I had it with me) specifically talked about this issue. The article in the book was an abstract story that told about a caveman-like society, within the story the elders wanted the youngsters to learn about the certain extinct animals and how to kill them rather than teach them how to kill the animals that they would encounter in everyday life. This article, though abstract, is specifically talking about subjects like Latin in the modern education system. How often is an American or British student going to encounter Latin? Now how often are they going to encounter Spanish or French in their lifetimes? Obviously Spanish and French are much more useful than Latin or Ancient Greek, so the school district decides to cut Latin and add a French department. The school district does not do this simply because they do not think the students are capable of learning Latin, as Sir Peter Maxwell Davies suggests, but rather because it is becoming extinct and there are more useful things to be taught.

Overall, I enjoyed Sir Peter Maxwell Davies’ speech however I found that he oversimplified many major educational issues that are very important to me. So, I felt it necessary to set the record straight and blog about eduction here and in the US, as we do face many of the very same problems.

If you would like to listen to Sir Peter Maxwell Davies’ speak on education and his life here is a link: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/console/b00mj5xs